Here I come with a noise out of the woods, something to say for Christmas. The wise men are on the way… and the shepherds… and our own childhood.
And it will be Christmas again, with all the invisible grace of His coming, His revolution.
We do not understand that this business about the crib is the real revolution that once for all turned everything upside-down so that nothing has ever been, or can ever be, the same again.
But we try hard to sing the ‘old song’ instead of the new one: the song of war, of money, of power, of success, of having a good time: when it is really all much simpler than that. Life is much more fun when you don’t have to have a good time or force anybody to do anything or put anything across.
